


Why I Haven't Been Updating

by justflyingthroughlife



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Jackson's not an asshole, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 10:05:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1936773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justflyingthroughlife/pseuds/justflyingthroughlife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jackson finally finds out about everything that happened in the last few months after he watches one of Stiles' YouTube videos. Comforting happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why I Haven't Been Updating

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you like this! I've wanted to see a YouTuber Stiles for a long time and Dylan's old videos sparked the idea.

Jackson didn’t really know _why_ he was Googling Stilinski. He told himself that he was just bored, wanted to see what the little shit had gotten up to in the past few months. Truthfully, he missed him. He missed all of them, really, but he didn’t know how important Stiles’ banter was to him until he left.

The first thing that popped up was a video by spasticbatman called “Makeup Tag”. The thumbnail was a picture of Stiles with blue eyeshadow on up to his eyebrows. Jackson chuckled and clicked the link. He’d have to get Stilinski’s number from Lydia; there was no way he’d let him live this down.

“Hey guys,” Stiles said, smiling into the camera. He looked younger, maybe 13 or 14, with the ridiculously long hair that he’d buzzed off in freshman year. “I was wondering yesterday how pretty I’d look with makeup on. So, I bought a bunch of stuff that I don’t know how to use, which made for a very awkward conversation with a very pretty cashier, and now I’m gonna slather it on.”

By the end of the video, Jackson was almost crying with laughter. Stiles was pretty much in blackface with how much bronzer he had on, his eyebrows were thick and black, and he had bright red lipstick smeared on his lips. Stiles grimaced as he held up a mirror.

“So that was a failed endeavor,” Stiles said, setting the mirror down. “But now we know that I should never be allowed near this shit.” Jackson clicked on another video, called “True Wannabe”.

Jackson would be lying if he said he didn’t start binge-watching the videos. He’d never known that Stiles was so funny or that he had such a huge following (mostly teenage girls, if the comments section is to be trusted). Then again, he’d never really paid much attention to him until the kanima, and he wasn’t really making jokes during that ordeal.

“‘Stiles, are you popular at your school for being a YouTuber?’” Stiles read aloud from his phone, in “Ask Stiles #9”. Stiles chuckled and sighed before answering. “Uh, no. Definitely not. No, I really only have one friend. It’s okay though. I only really need one.” Jackson’s chest ached a bit at the answer. He checked the date of the video- February 26, 2009. By then, Jackson had already spent almost eight years alienating Stiles and getting pretty much everyone else to follow suit.

He quickly clicked on another video, called “Why I Haven’t Been Updating”. The date was November 21, 2011. Only a week before. The Stiles in the video was… different. He sat very still, only his head and mouth moving. His voice was quieter, almost a murmur. Physically, he was a lot paler, with dark, dark circles under his eyes. His hair was longer, enough to spike it up in the front, although it was messy in the video. It looked like he’d been running his hands through it a lot before he started filming.

“I’m sorry, it’s just- I’m dealing with the death of a friend, and I’m not entirely healthy right now, mentally or physically,” Stiles said toward the end of the video, tears running freely down his face. “S-sorry, you guys probably didn’t want to see this. I’ll update as soon as I can. See ya.” Jackson stared in shock at the computer screen. This was not the ADHD spaz he left behind. He picked up his phone and did something he’d avoided for months.

To: Lydia

What happened to Stilinski?

* * * * * * * * * *

Jackson tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for his bag. His mind was filled with unpleasant images from his conversation with Lydia. Allison dying, Stiles being possessed. His bag finally showed up and he grabbed it, only one goal in mind- seeing Stiles. After watching that video, seeing how broken Stiles was, after Lydia explained everything, Jackson wanted- no, _needed_ \- to check, make sure he was still-

Jackson stopped the thought, but the last word echoed in his mind. _Alive._ He couldn’t shake the feeling that Stiles couldn’t take it. God knows he sometimes couldn’t even look himself in the mirror, even after _months_. The old Stiles, the annoying yet somewhat endearing spaz, could’ve bounced back easily. But this Stiles was fragile, physically and emotionally. And Jackson didn’t really know what he’d do.

He found himself outside the Stilinski house, half an hour later. He could hear Stiles’ footsteps as he paced in his room. He was alone. The Sheriff must’ve been working. Carefully, he climbed up to the roof and crouched next to the window. He heard Stiles stop pacing and his heartbeat pick up slightly.

“I can see you, Jackson.” The blond sighed and opened the window, dropping into Stiles’ bedroom. “What are you doing here?” Jackson shrugged, avoiding Stiles’ gaze.

“I uh, I saw your last video,” he replied. “I got worried and I texted Lydia.” Stiles snorted.

“She tell you I went off the rails?” he asked, sitting down on his bed. Jackson shook his head, looking up.

“She told me that you were possessed, and Allison died, and that you won’t stop blaming yourself,” Jackson replied. Stiles stared at his hands, murmuring numbers. Counting. He was counting them, to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. When he got to ten, Jackson continued. “It really isn’t your fault.” Stiles looked up, eyes full of anger.

“Yes it is,” he growled. “It’s _all_ my fault! If I hadn’t let it in-” Stiles shudders. “I-if I just- if-” He cut off with a shout of frustration, standing up suddenly and resuming his pacing. “Why are you even _here_?” he asked. “You hate me.” The emptiness in Jackson’s chest grew.

“I don’t- I never hated you, Stiles,” he replied softly. “I… it’s complicated.” Stiles stopped abruptly, clenching his fists, before whirling around and slapping Jackson so quickly that all he saw was a blur before his cheek blossomed with a stinging pain.

“You come back after _months_ , after I’ve been possessed and forced to kill people, kill _Allison_ , and you have the _nerve_ to say it’s _complicated?!”_ Stiles screamed. “If you’re going to patronize me, you can just leave.” He fell silent, turning around and sitting on his bed again. Hesitantly, Jackson sat next to him. He sighed and decided to tell him the truth.

“Before all of this werewolf stuff happened, I had a bit of a gay crisis,” he said softly. “So I started dating Lydia, to try and keep my mind off of it. And it worked, for a while. But then Derek came back, and Scott got bit, and suddenly this _guy_ that I’d been crushing on was _everywhere_. And I treated him like shit and left without a word to him, but now he’s not okay and I just want to fix it.” Stiles looked at him through his lashes.

“Then why are you at _my_ house?” he asked. Jackson huffed, exasperated.

“It’s _you_ ,” he replied, holding back on the _you idiot_ he was going to add. “ _You’re_ the guy.” Stiles stared at him for a minute before his eyes started watering. Jackson crushed him to his chest right when he broke down. He sobbed, heart wrenching, painful sounds coming from his mouth as he shuddered against Jackson. Jackson quietly soothed him, rubbing small circles on his back and rocking them back and forth while murmuring comforting nonsense. It took a while, but Stiles finally cried himself out, sniffling slightly on Jackson’s damp shirt.

“Jackson?” he asked, voice rough from screaming and crying. “D-do you still-”

“Feel the same way?” asked Jackson, cutting him off. “Yes. I didn’t really want to admit it to myself, but it’s pretty obvious from the way I was binge-watching your videos.” Stiles huffed a laugh.

“Good.” Jackson didn’t ask what he meant by that, just held him close until his breath evened out and he was asleep.

The Sheriff would find them when he got home from his shift, clutching each other tightly, even in their sleep. He would smile slightly at the two boys before draping a blanket over them and making a mental note to ask some questions in the morning. But for now, they slept, neither plagued by the darkness that they normally couldn’t escape. They had each other, and that was all they needed.

**Author's Note:**

> So whatcha think? Don't be shy, I love comments!


End file.
